"Good stuff."

Chen Mang looked at the other inconspicuous white-grade accessories in the control car, like the "Binoculars." He decided that after he finished mining this batch of iron ore, he would upgrade all the accessories he could and see their advanced effects.

Maybe some inconspicuous accessory had an outrageous advanced effect.

Before upgrading the "Train Radio," he had no idea its effect would be so outrageous.

Without any delay, he sent a message and pinned it to the top of the Train Radio.

"The Stellar": Seeking oxygen-producing accessories, headlights, and other accessory blueprints. Anyone with blueprints of any grade can private message me to discuss the price.

The message was framed in gold, occupying a seventh of the screen, and floated at the top of the Train Radio chat room, appearing extremely conspicuous.

The people who happened to be paying attention to the Train Radio all typed out question marks.

"The Iron Tree Train": "?"

"Please Let Me Live Train": "?"

"The Fecal Sea Maggot Train": "?"

"The Tonsil Never Speaks Train": "Bro, how did you get that gold-framed pin?"

"The Protagonist Train": "Wait, bro, I’ve seen this plot in a novel. Did you know the apocalypse was coming in advance, and you just happened to be able to pay to win, and you spent tens of millions before the apocalypse?"

"The Hong Qigong Train": "I’ve cursed out my AI until it’s blue in the face, and it still won’t tell me how to get a gold-framed pin."

Chen Mang scanned the Train Radio, filtering out the useless chatter, and didn’t find the information he was looking for. Just then, his Train Radio chimed with a private message.

The sender was the "Protagonist Train."

To be honest, he didn’t know what kind of person would give their train such a name.

But on second thought, it made sense. Everyone was the protagonist of their own story. He was the protagonist of his own life, too.

And the other party’s message was very concise.

"I have an accessory that can produce oxygen."

"What do you want for it? Name your price."

"No price, bro. It’s a gift."

"..."

Seeing this line of text, Chen Mang even suspected he had misread it. Bro, this is the apocalypse! You’re giving away an accessory blueprint for free? Are you running a charity? This is risking your life for charity.

Wouldn’t it be better to take some iron ore, upgrade your train, and save your own life in the apocalypse?

"?"

"Bro, I’ve been watching you since you first appeared on the Ironridge Wasteland regional leaderboard. Then you rose quickly and took the top spot. I see the makings of a protagonist in you. Based on my experience, showing goodwill to a protagonist before they’ve truly risen will definitely bring great rewards in the future."

"I don’t need this oxygen-producing accessory anyway. Giving it to you, bro is no loss for me."

"I just hope that when you’ve truly risen, bro, you can give your little brother some scraps to help him live a few more days."

"Bro, send me your coordinates. I’ll bring it to you."

"..."

Chen Mang looked at the private message chat box, his expressionless face. It was clear this guy had read a lot of novels and was a firm believer in the "protagonist theory." Once such a person chose the protagonist in their heart, they would do their best to latch onto their coattails【TN: Chinese idiom meaning to attach oneself to a powerful person for benefit】.

He couldn’t say it was good, and he couldn’t say it was bad.

It just felt strange. Because he had always believed more in the theory of interests. He himself might die at any moment. What protagonist theory? He never believed in that.

"No need. You send me your coordinates. I’ll trade remotely."

"Huh? I’ll try."

On the other side of the Ironridge Wasteland, in a Level 2 train, a young man sitting at the control console tentatively typed his coordinates into the chat box. Before he could react, he saw a golden "scale" slowly materialize above the Train Radio.

The left side of the scale was illusory, and the right side was solid. He tentatively placed the green-grade accessory blueprint in his hand on the right side.

The next moment—

With a flash of white light, the accessory blueprint vanished.

"Holy shit!"

The young man couldn’t help but jump up from the control console, staring at the scene in disbelief, his whole body frozen. This is some high-tech shit!

As far as he knew, even a Level 3 train didn’t have a remote trading function.

How did the Stellar do it?

The reason he had noticed the Stellar was because when the "Regional Leaderboard" first came out, his rank was just one below the Stellar’s. He had subconsciously wanted to catch up.

And then...

As he chased, the Stellar jumped to the top of the leaderboard.

He had witnessed the Stellar’s exponential, outrageous development firsthand—a Level 2 train forcing its way to the top of the leaderboard, suppressing a group of Level 3 trains.

Just then, before he could react, a pile of things fell from the originally illusory left side of the scale, clattering onto the control console.

There were two cartons of cigarettes, a thousand units of iron ore, ten hot meat-stuffed buns, and even a pornographic magazine.

"This bro..."

The young man looked at the pile of things, then picked up the pornographic magazine, his expression a little dazed as he murmured, "He’s a man of his word. But did the bro forget I’m a Train Captain, too? I’m not short on women."

But he quickly looked a little disappointed. The bro rejected my goodwill.

Just then—

His Train Radio chimed again.

"I appreciate the thought. But in times of weakness, don’t easily give away your foundation as a favor. These are life-saving things."

"A small gift. Take it."

The young man stared at the message from the Stellar, momentarily stunned. A moment later, he couldn’t help but chuckle. So Boss Mang had accepted the gesture after all.

If the Stellar ever became a true powerhouse, this small favor might just be the thing that saved his life one day.

Besides…

"This is pretty good stuff."

He flipped through the pornographic magazine in his hands. He didn’t lack for women, but the magazine gave him a novel feeling, a strange sense that he was still living in a civilized world.

Just then—

"Son."

The door to the control car slid open, and a middle-aged man walked in, his face etched with bitterness. "You’re a Train Captain now," he whispered. "I’m your father, for crying out loud. Can’t I just kick back and enjoy life a little?"

"Enjoy life?"

The young man’s brow furrowed, his expression turning stern. "Enjoy what? This is the apocalypse! What did you think it was, child’s play? Every person who isn’t mining slows down the train’s development. You take a day off, I take a day off, and pretty soon we’ll all be taking an eternal vacation in hell. Don’t you understand that?"

"Alright, alright."

The young man stealthily shoved five roujiamo【TN: Chinese pork burgers】, a carton of cigarettes, and the magazine into his father’s arms. "Here," he whispered, "hide these. A little something extra for you. But you can’t stop working. If you do, my uncles and aunts will all go on strike. I’ve just barely gotten things under control. Don’t you dare mess it up for me."

"Sigh." The middle-aged man sighed, his gaze falling on the magazine. "I get it, I do. Mining every day is fine. But you’re living it up with all those girls... can’t you let your old man have a little fun? Your mother passed away so long ago, and I never remarried…"

"Don’t you even think about disrespecting Mom’s memory, you old dog."

"But you’re fooling around with all those women. Is that supposed to be respectful to her?"

"She was your wife, not mine. I don’t have one, so what does it matter to me?"

"Fair point."